Bittersweet Realizations
by KeepTheFaith
Summary: Complete - Additional scenes before, during and after LMPTM
1. Default Chapter

Title: Bittersweet Realizations

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

Disclaimer: Buffy tvs is owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, I'm just borrowing them for the purposes of this story, some scenes / dialogue is from LMPTM with added scenes before, during and after the episode.

Spoilers: Set during season 7 episode "Lies My Parents Told Me"

Feedback: May be provided here or sent to aeryncrichton@hotmail.com

Subject: Buffy / Spike story

Part I

Buffy ruthlessly combed and fastened her straight blonde hair into a ponytail and then looped it under and fastened it again by looping it underneath and through the binder, satisfied that only a couple of stray locks around her face had escaped confinement. She looked into the mirror while she smoothed on a layer of cotton candy Covergirl lipstick. After smacking her lips together, she blotted the color and tossed the kleenex into the waste basket. A quick flick of the switch bathed the room in darkness upon her exit.

Looking down at her Citizen watch, she discovered that she had time to either have breakfast or see Spike. Without conscious thought, her feet led her to the basement staircase. There was only a slight squeak on the fifth stair from the bottom, but she knew that if she leaned to the left or skipped over the stair she could make her entrance soundlessly. It was after all her house, since her mom died.

Buffy didn't bother with the stealthy approach. She wanted Spike to know that she was coming. For good or ill, her feelings for him were something she could no longer ignore.

Denial was getting her nowhere. And everyone from Giles to Willow to Dawnie was only too willing to point out just how much she was endangering the entire group due to her actions regarding Spike.

Buffy shook her head and sighed. She was in love... with a vampire, a vampire who possessed a soul, her very own platinum haired, angel of death and destruction. A dark angel of pain, who brought her the only moments of happiness she could claim as her own, in a life that no longer belonged to her.

When she reached the cement floor, she saw the light in front of her flash on with the snap of a chain-pull. It bathed Spike in the light of the bare 75-Watt lightbulb, glistening off his fair hair like a halo.

"Isn't it time for you to head off to work, with the Woodman?" Spike inquired, biting sarcasm warring with a longing he couldn't conceal flaring in the depths of his hazel eyes. His lip half curled, then despite his best... or maybe it was his worst intensions, he smiled into the ageless, world weary eyes of The Slayer, his Slayer, as she stood before him.

"Not yet, but if you want me to go..." Buffy offered, her body half turned and poised to mount the stairs back up to the kitchen.

Spike reached out and caught her arm in a firm, yet gentle grasp as he shook his head and muttered, "you know that's not what I want luv."

"Just what do you want from me Spike?" Buffy asked, absurdly appalled, yet almost equally relieved to have let the question escape her lips unedited. It was something she desperately wanted to know. She knew how she felt, yet no matter how she thought Spike felt for her, she still wasn't really sure of his feelings for her. At least not anymore.

Spike let his hand fall away from Buffy's arm. As he sank back down to a seat on the single bed, he patted the mattress beside him, silently inviting her to sit down.

He looked up, surprised and unaccountably almost giddy as he felt the bed dip beside him.

"I finally know how I feel," Buffy admitted, trailing off suddenly as shy as a teen on her first date.

Spike's interest was piqued beyond his ability to dissemble, "and how is that luv?"

There was a loud crash and then a brief curse that could be heard upstairs. The sound of the Slayer's in training and her little sister getting up and getting ready for the day.

Both sets of eyes flew to the door at the top of the stairs, when it creaked open and Dawn's voice called out, "Buffy, you down there?"

Buffy stood up to go, but before she could call out or walk away, Spike reached out and she turned to look back at him with a brief tender smile.

"Are you gonna soddin' tell me or not?" Spike asked, fearful that the interruption would prevent him from getting an answer from her.

Distracted by the noise upstairs and her own need to shield her feelings, Buffy hedged, "Can we talk about this later? I really need to bring some order to the chaos upstairs before I leave for work."

Spike sighed, but nodded. He knew that whatever Buffy was afraid to confront, there was never a good time and waiting never made it any easier. Twenty-eight years of life and an additional ninety-two years of unlife had been enough to teach him that. The other thing it had taught him was that patience was a virtue, albeit one that he'd rarely practiced, but with Buffy he was willing to try.

He had all day while the sun was shining outside to sleep, but Spike spent most of it thinking about Buffy, waiting for her to return home so they could finally finish their conversation. That is, if she didn't decide to put it off again.

to be continued...


	2. Ch 2 Underneath It All

Title: Bittersweet Realizations

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

Disclaimer: Buffy tvs is owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, I'm just borrowing them for the purposes of this story, some scenes / dialogue is from LMPTM with added scenes before, during and after the episode.

Spoilers: Set during season 7 episode "Lies My Parents Told Me"

Feedback: May be provided here or sent to aeryncrichton@hotmail.com

Subject: Additional scenes before, during and after "Lies My Parents Told Me" furthering the Buffy/Spike romance

Part II - Underneath it All

The evening wasn't shaping up even close to how Spike had envisioned it. He'd pictured Buffy coming down the stairs, but not with the entire Scooby Gang and Giles on her heels. Being watched like an exhibit while he was in the process of being chained up wasn't exactly his idea of a fun way to spend the evening.

He'd been anticipating an opportunity to continue the discussion Buffy had started earlier. That would obviously have to wait until later. Much, much later, if the grim visages around him were any indication.

Spike sat on the edge of the bed, while Xander fussed with the steel manacles. He fastened one first to Spike's right wrist and then the other to Spike's left wrist, securely chaining him to the cement wall of the Summer's basement.

"We couldn't have put these chains back on a week ago?" Xander muttered under his breath. "No, we've got to work on Spike now." He shook his head thinking darkly of the fact that he wouldn't have a business soon, if he didn't find a way to put some more of his time back into XYZ Construction. And soon after that, he'd no longer have a place to live, because he wouldn't be able to pay his rent.

"What?" Spike asked sharply. It was getting tiresome hearing everyone talk about him as if he were an inanimate object. Being handled like one was more than a little off-putting.

"Nothing," Xander replied quietly.

Principal Wood continued to stare at Spike, finding it hard to remain still in the same room with the monster who killed his mother. But like before, he knew he had to bide his time, his opportunity for revenge would come. And it would be sweet indeed, when he had the chance to dole out the kind of pain and death Spike had served up to his mother all those years ago.

Spike looked up to see the unwavering stare of Principal Wood upon him. He didn't like the guy on principle; after all he'd tried to move in on his territory where dating Buffy was concerned. And there was a darkness behind the man's eyes that no one else seemed to notice. A hidden agenda lurked there, if he didn't miss his guess.

"What are you doing here?" Spike asked Wood. "You came to see the show?" he taunted.

"I thought you might need support," Wood replied in a deadpan.

'As if,' Spike thought darkly. "Ah, huh. Right, let's get this over with. What are you gonna do? Some hypno beam? A disarming spell?" Spike asked the approaching Giles. All the while running through Spike's head was the thought, 'whatever it is just let him get it over with quickly, so Buffy and I can find time to talk.'

Giles took out a box from his jacket pocket. "Not exactly," he replied. "The first has brainwashed you; there's something in your subconscious that it's using to provoke a violent reaction. So..." Giles began, only to open the box in his hands and pull a dark rock out of it. "We have to put this in your brain."

"Bugger that," Spike exclaimed, as he jerked back in involuntary reaction to Giles' matter of fact statement.

"The procrate stone will move within your mind to reveal the root of the trigger's powers. It can unleash ideas, images, memories," Giles revealed. "Hopefully once you understand what it is that's setting you off, you can break its hold on you." Rupert pushed his glasses back up his nose, thinking to himself, 'hopefully this will work, otherwise more drastic measure may be needed to neutralize Spike's danger to the group and especially the danger he poses to Buffy. She trust him entirely too much for her own good.'

"Hopefully?" Dawn interjected. "So it might not work?" That was definitely not what she wanted to hear. She wanted Spike back to normal, or as normal as he got anyway, instead of all triggery and potentially fatal to them all, especially Buffy. Ever since Buffy had told them about the trigger in Spike's brain, Dawn had been worried about them both, because she knew that it would kill Buffy if she was somehow put in the position of having to kill Spike to protect an innocent.

"The stone's just a catalyst for the process. The rest is up to Spike," Giles cautioned.

Spike looked up at a waiting Giles and asked, "And just how do you expect to get that hunk of rubble in my cranium?" Spike kept his eye on the steadily approaching Watcher. This whole thing sounded like something that was sure to give him a splitting headache and that was probably the best case scenario.

Giles motioned while he spoke one word, "Willow." Giles set the procrate stone back in the box he'd removed it from earlier.

Willow stepped up, all twitchy and unnerved about the prospect of being the channel through which to filter yet another blast of magical energy, even if it was for the purposes of healing. "Okay," she said, taking a deep cleansing breath. "I just hope my pronunciation is in the ballpark." A nervous laugh escaped, and then she turned to the open tome in her hands. "Cunami belig suction bok vada en keli bu morosh bokocay."

As the words of Willow's spell drifted into the ether, the stone transformed into something malleable and almost eel-like within the box.

Spike looked into the open box and shook his head in dismay at the squirming form inside. "You have got to be joking. What now?" he asked.

Giles got all bookish as he explained the process of inserting the stone into Spike's head. "It has to access the cerebral cortex via the optic nerve."

"Bollocks," slipped out before Spike had a chance to censor himself. He didn't like to swear in front of the Nibblet, she was still so young and sweet. He wasn't pleased to have to label himself as a bad influence on her. "All the rubbish people keep sticking in my head, it's a wonder there's any room left for my brain."

Giles smiled humorlessly. "I don't think it takes up that much space. Do you?" he asked rhetorically.

Spike quirked his lip in a smirk that was his only reply. He remained still as Giles brought the box close enough to his face to allow the eel-like procrate stone to crawl onto his cheek. It then inched its way across the cold flesh of Spike's face to enter through the corner of his right eye.

Regardless of how resolute Spike was trying to remain, as soon as the thing poked him in the eye, he felt first pressure and then burning as it burrowed into his head. He let out a howl and then screamed, successively louder, "Ow, ow, ow!"

Buffy rushed over to Spike, worry written on her face as she sat beside him on the bed and put her hand on his right shoulder to reassure him that she was there. "Spike? Spike? Listen to me," she instructed, when she got no response from repeatedly calling his name.

"Yeah," Spike replied in a distracted tone, while he looked down. 

He didn't want to look directly at Buffy, especially not with every eye in the room on the both of them. His feelings for her were raw enough when they were laid bare to her alone, not that he didn't suspect that most of them could see right through him. Why else would he stay in Sunnydale? If not for his feelings for Buffy, he'd have long ago packed up and taken off for any other city in the world. He'd lived in Prague, Amsterdam, New York City. Any of those places without Buffy in them simply held no appeal. He couldn't leave her, especially not when there was a chance she might need him. Even if it was just for his fisticuffs against the First Evil's army. His hope that someday there might be more between them were his own and nothing to do with anyone else, not even Buffy.

"Are you all right?" Buffy asked, continuing to keep her hand on his shoulder, wanting to keep him grounded and in control of the process. She didn't want to see him fall back into the abyss she'd pulled him out of after The First had used the trigger on him before. Nor did she want to see him fall back into the psychosis The First had caused when she'd found Spike living in the basement of Sunnydale High School. 

"How am I supposed to know..." Spike asked in a smart-alecky tone, then continued, "if this bug ugly is doing its jo..." he trailed off as his mind fell into the past, sights and sounds so sharp it was if he was reliving the moments rather than merely watching them in his mind's eye.

*** flashback ***

William stood before his mother, a stack of stiff, manila parchment papers in his hands. His gray suit was impeccably pressed, with a white linen shirt beneath it and his wire-frame spectacles sat on his nose as he read.

"Yet her smell, it doth linger

Painting pictures in my mind

Her eyes, balls of honey

Angel's hearts are there

Oh mark! Grant a sign

If crooked be cupid's shaft

Hark! The lark her name it hath spake

Cecily it discharges

From twixt its wee beak"

"Oh William," his mother sighed.

"It's just scribblings," William replied, a swish of the papers in his hand, adequate to convey his disparagement of his own work.

"Nonsense. It's magnificent," his mother admonished. "I wonder though, this Cecily of whom you write so often. Would that be the Underwood's eldest girl?"

"No. No, I do not presume," William replied with downcast eyes unable to admit the truth.

iSpike knew that the scene he observed was simply a memory, yet he had no power to break its hold over his mind. Then again, he shouldn't want to because perhaps it held the key to disarming the trigger in his brain./i

His mother could tell he was dissembling from his body language, so she pressed, "She's lovely. You shouldn't be alone; you need a woman in your life."

"I have a woman in my life," William announced firmly.

"You, nev...," his mother began, then when she realized who he spoke of she gave a short laugh.

William doffed his glasses. "Do not mistake me. I still have hopes that one day there will be an addition to this household. I will always look after you mother. This I promise," William vowed with his hand on his heart.

His mother coughed, fumbled for her handkerchief, which she brought to cover her mouth. When she lowered the white lace trimmed scrap, blood was soaked through the center.

William poured his mother a glass of water from the cut crystal decanter on the side table in the parlor and held it out to her. "Should I send the coach for Dr. Gull?" he asked, eager to find something he could do for his ailing mother.

She waved off his suggestion. "I'll be all right. Just sit with me a while William," she requested.

William walked over and sat on the floor in front of his mother, while she began to sing very softly.

"Early one morning, just as the sun was shining

I heard a maid sing in the valley below

Oh don't deceive me, Oh he'll never leave me

How could you use a poor maiden so."

*** end flashback ***

Spike's features morphed into his vampire game face, ridged around the nose and eye ridge, as his eyes turned yellow and feral without conscious effort or thought on his part, as the trigger brought out the demon and submerged the part of him that had regained his soul. He reached out, grabbed Buffy by the throat and then flung her across the room, before she had a chance to react to his sudden change in appearance and demeanor. Then Spike yanked at his bonds, testing the limits of the chains that held him to the wall, but he was unable to reach anyone else in the room directly. He reached down for the edge of the bed, which he toppled end over end, to hit Dawn and send her flying to the ground.

"Dawn," Willow cried, concern marring her face as she raced to make sure that the younger girl was okay.

Spike fell to his knees, howling in pain and clawed at his face. Then he tipped his head back and the eel-like procrate rock crawled out of his eye and dropped to the ground, transforming once more into its rock-like state, as it hit the floor with a sharp ping.

When Spike looked up, once more only his smooth visage was visible, a human mask that hid the vampire that lurked inside him. A vampire spirit that he'd been capable of submerging first with the help of modern technology and later with the metaphysical, through the regaining of his soul.

Now The First had planted some sort of a trigger in his head that he had no way to counter, no way to block. Just the sound of a bloody song and off her went into la-la-land without a clue as to what he might do to anyone he encountered. Except that it would definitely be bad.

Bugger.

to be continued...


	3. Crypt Fun and Games

Title: Bittersweet Realizations

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

Disclaimer: Buffy tvs is owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, I'm just borrowing them for the purposes of this story, some scenes / dialogue is from LMPTM with added scenes before, during and after the episode.

Spoilers: Set during season 7 episode "Lies My Parents Told Me"

Feedback: May be provided here or sent to aeryncrichton@hotmail.com

Subject: Additional scenes before, during and after "Lies My Parents Told Me" furthering the Buffy/Spike romance

Part III - Crypt Fun and Games

No matter how many arguments Giles offered, Buffy believed that Spike was a good man. He had a soul now. That had to count for something, no matter what Giles said. As for the trigger, well at least now they knew what it was. So they'd have a chance to counter it.

Buffy walked beside Spike up the basement steps and into the kitchen, outside of which there were only a few short steps down into the garage where his DeSoto was parked side by side with the Dodge Astro van that she couldn't think of as belonging to anyone other than her mother. Buffy still didn't really drive much, preferring to rely on her own muscles to get her to and from her destinations. Sure she drove it to work, but really for just Dawn and herself the mini-van was too much. It was just that she couldn't bring herself to trade it in either. Because it was yet another link to their mother. And there were far too few of those left.

Spike stayed well out of the sun dappled brightness of the kitchen until Buffy closed the curtains and drew the blinds, making it nominally safer for him to cross the space without gettin' singed. But he wasn't about to leave without getting something cleared up between them.

Before Buffy could reach for the doorknob, Spike grasped her arm and whirled her around to face him.

"Think we could get back to the topic of our conversation this morning, Sla... Buffy?" Spike asked, substituting her name for her title at the last second. His voice softened to turn her name on his lips to the consistency of warm honey on the tongue, sweet and yet full of sensual promise.

Buffy looked up into Spike's earnest aquamarine eyes and felt herself drowning in them. When she fell into his eyes like this, she found herself wanting more than anything to make them close, but only after she'd filled them with a slumberous warmth that would prevent him from keeping them open for another second. No matter how often she told herself that this was wrong and that she had to stop, had to turn her thoughts... her feelings in another direction, he drew her to him again and again.

"Buffy. Buffy," Spike said, then he snapped his fingers in front of her face, instantly breaking her free from her trance.

A blush rose to Buffy's cheeks as she realized the direction her thoughts had taken. Then she realized that Spike had asked her a question. "Spike, I'm sorry, what?" she asked, hoping for clarification, her blush deepening.

"I suppose you're gonna soddin' tell me that you forgot coming down to the basement this morning?" Spike asked, shaking his head.

  
"No, I didn't forget," Buffy denied adamantly, before she realized that her admission and this conversation could take her into dangerous territory. "This just isn't the time..." 

Spike tentatively reached out to brush a lock of wild blonde hair behind one of Buffy's ears. Then he laid his chill hand against her cheek, cupping it gently, as a child might caress a wildflower's petals to prevent their delicate beauty from being bruised.

A shiver went down Buffy's spine at Spike's delicate touch. It defied his nature and hers. The feelings that surged within her most of all were something she'd already realized she couldn't run from much longer. But right now, with a trigger in Spike's brain, this might not be the best time to discuss her feelings with him.

There was really no telling when the trigger might set him off. And even though Giles had ferreted out what the trigger was, they still had no means of shutting it off.

As much as she'd like to let this wander into dangerous territory, there simply wasn't time for it. The fight with the First Evil took precedence over her personal feelings. And for that she needed Spike. She needed him strong and whole. Not a danger in their very midst.

"I think we should get you back to your crypt," Buffy told him.

"Don't trust me to get there on my own?" Spike asked, with a cocky grin.

"I don't plan on leaving you on your own until the trigger's been disarmed," Buffy admitted. At Spike's widening grin, she clarified, "I'll make sure there's someone with you whenever I can't be."

Although Spike grimaced slightly at the thought of someone other than Buffy babysitting him, the thought of having her with him in his crypt, all alone, was a bittersweet dream come true. Since it was still at least an hour before sunset, Spike parked the car out behind the crypt, where he'd constructed a shelter for it that led inside. With a flourish, he opened the door and motioned for Buffy to precede him inside.

Downstairs in Spike's Crypt

"So what now? You sit here with me and wait for the trigger to go off?" Spike suggested dolefully.

Buffy shook her head. "We could play cards," she threw out as a suggestion. Since serious talk was out of the question. At least for now.

"Strip poker?" Spike offered with a leer.

In spite of herself, Buffy found herself laughing. "I don't think so."

"Name your game then Slayer," Spike dared.

"How about twenty-one?" she asked.

"You mean blackjack?" Spike requested clarification.

"Yeah," Buffy answered.

"Fine," Spike agreed, pulling out a deck of cards from a drawer in the side table and shuffling them on the coffee table in front of the couch. He perched on the edge of the lounge chair, oh so conveniently placed in front of the tele, while that left the whole of the ancient sofa for Buffy's use.

"So what are we going to play for?" Spike asked, arching his eyebrows suggestively.

"Certainly not kittens," Buffy announced, recalling the time she'd found Spike and a bunch of demons playing poker with a bunch of innocent little fur balls as the ante.

"I haven't played for kittens in a long time," Spike admitted. "Besides, there's much more interesting things you and I could play for," he drawled.

"Such as?" Buffy asked sweetly.

"If I win a hand, you could give me a kiss," Spike suggested, with a cocky, knowing grin and a wink.

Buffy shook her head, "I don't think so."

"Well then, we could finish the conversation you started this morning," Spike offered, figuring this was as good a chance as any to press the issue without pushing too hard.

"All right," Buffy agreed. "But what do I get if I win?"  
  
"What do you want?" Spike asked. There wasn't anything that he wouldn't give her regardless of whether she won or lost the game.

"For you to tell me about your past," Buffy answered candidly. "Before you were a vampire," she added.

Soon shy smiles were exchanged in between hands of blackjack as Buffy drank from the can of Coke that he had produced from a micro-miniature camping type refrigerator. It appeared to operate on some kind of battery, because she didn't hear that constant background noise that every full sized refrigerator seemed to produce. Spike poured a couple of shots of room temperature Jack Daniels into a glass for himself.

Buffy raised her eyebrows, but didn't say anything about the dangers of mixing alcohol with The First's trigger, because she was sure he'd probably already thought about that. And really, when the first could set off the trigger anytime, anywhere, what did a little bit of alcohol really matter.

Soon their smiles had dissolved into full fledged laughter, as Buffy unaccountably won hand after hand of blackjack. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, just lucky I guess, while Spike dealt the cards for one more hand. He'd told her more about his life before he was a vampire in the past hour and a half than he had in the six years she'd known him.

A short musical phrase trilled and then repeated before Buffy had a chance to pull the hot pink cell phone from the clip at her side.

"Hello," Buffy said into the phone.

From Buffy's demeanor, Spike could tell that it was Giles on the other end of the line. Her brow furrowed as she listened to Giles natter on and on over the phone, like the prat he could sometimes... oftentimes be. Still for all Giles' faults, he was definitely a pseudo father figure to Buffy, so he tried to put up with Mr. Tweed.

After Buffy ended the call and slipped the phone back into its convenient carrying case at her side, Spike filled in the blanks before she had a chance to, "you have to go."

Buffy nodded.

"Did you want me to go back to your house?" Spike asked.

Buffy shook her head, and then explained, "Giles wants me to drop you off at Wood's house. He'll look after you while I'm out."

"If you're going to be out fighting some more of the nasties... Bringers or whatever..." Spike trailed off, the offer plain in both his words and posture. He wanted to fight, to help, to remain at Buffy's side.

"Nothing like that," Buffy informed him with a shake of her head. "Giles wants to talk and get a little training and strategy session in is all."

Spike nodded, as he looked over at her calm, assured countenance. He'd fallen into the habit of walking in step with Buffy, so they could be side by side at all times. It gave him the ability to immediately take her back if they ran up against a pack of vampires or any other nasties of the night prowling variety. Being beside her also gave Spike the illusion that someday they might be closer again. That she might see beyond the monster to the man beneath. The one who loved her beyond all reason.

"We're here," Buffy announced as they walked up the sidewalk to Principal Wood's house. Giles had given her the address and since it wasn't far from St. Anne's Cemetery he hadn't objected when she'd stated her intention of walking Spike over there before continuing on to meet him back at The Magic Shop.

Unfortunately it seemed as if their walk was over and yet again they'd had no chance to discuss what Buffy had almost begun to tell him in the basement this very morning. "Buffy, maybe later we can talk..."  
  
Wood chose that most infelicitous moment to interrupt the duo, by appearing around the corner of the house and greeting them, "Buffy... Spike."

Buffy looked up at Wood's stealthy approach and realized that there wasn't much that she knew about the man that he hadn't told her himself. And he really was an enigma, wrapped up in way too many layers of mystery. She wanted to trust Spike to him, but she felt wary, leery about leaving him in anyone else's care. This trigger made her feel jittery, but she didn't want to see someone hurt or for that matter kill Spike, before they had a chance to figure out how to disarm it. Spike mattered too much to her for his destruction to be an acceptable option anymore.

"I guess I should be going," Buffy stated, her voice soft and hesitant, a hint of the forlorn and abandoned in her posture.

"I'll see you soon love," Spike replied and was favored by a smile from his beloved.

They were so caught up in each other that both missed the tightening of Wood's mouth as he watched them.

Buffy walked back the way she'd come up the sidewalk and down the street. It was a few miles to The Magic Shop, but that wasn't anything to a Slayer in top physical condition. Her thoughts remained on Spike as each step took her further away. She'd become used to having Spike there, at her back or at her side. Her constant, stalwart companion. It wasn't easy to admit, but she'd come to depend on him. And not just for his vampire strength.

Soon, very soon she hoped, they'd have a chance to talk and she'd finally be able to tell Spike how she really felt about him.

to be continued...


	4. Ambushes and Delaying Tactics

Title: Bittersweet Realizations

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

Disclaimer: Buffy tvs is owned by Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy, I'm just borrowing them for the purposes of this story, some scenes / dialogue is from LMPTM with added scenes before, during and after the episode.

Spoilers: Set during season 7 episode "Lies My Parents Told Me"

Feedback: May be provided here or sent to aeryncrichton@hotmail.com

Subject: Additional scenes before, during and after "Lies My Parents Told Me" furthering the Buffy/Spike romance

Part IV - Ambushes & Delaying Tactics

A lucky punch from a fledgling vampire sent Buffy reeling. Then as she stepped backwards, she tripped over a low headstone and found herself sprawled on the ground. She arched her back and popped back up to her feet, dealing the fledgling a couple of quick hits that landed him on the ground.

Giles had accompanied her to St. Timothy's Cemetery, when she'd met up with him at The Magic Shop.

"I don't know Giles. Is this really a primo time for a training session?" Buffy asked, shrugging her shoulders and turning to face her Watcher. The man she'd come to treat as a stand in for her missing father. He'd taught her so much, been with her through so many ordeals and trials. And yet, this call to discuss strategy and work on her slaying technique seemed a bit forced and awkward even. Maybe, because Giles had taken to spending more time with the trainees than he did with her.

"I'm still your teacher Buffy. And as adept as you are as a Slayer there will always be things to learn," Giles pointed out quite logically. "Now more than ever, its crucial to maintain focus on your calling," he said, running a nervous hand through his hair, then crossing his arms to prevent any more careless gestures.

"In case you haven't noticed our plates are kind of full right now," Buffy commented bleakly. Then she added in a soft tone, knowing that it probably wouldn't move Giles, "I'm not very comfortable having Spike over at Wood's house either. I don't understand why he couldn't come with us."

Giles kept his lips compressed, not daring to voice what he really thought, that Buffy had been spending entirely too much time with Spike as it was. Watching them spend more time together was not going to improve the situation. Giles shook his head, despising the deception he felt he'd been forced into by Buffy's own stubborn refusal to see how truly dangerous Spike was, to her, to her friends and to the Slayers in training living in her house.

"For what it's worth, everyone at your house seemed quite relieved with the arrangement," Giles pointed out quite calmly. Going behind Buffy's back didn't set well with him. He knew it could lead to bad things. It had in the past. Maybe he should just... but no. He and Robin had agreed and it was for the best. Buffy needed to be kept as far away from Spike as possible. "Buffy, even though I'm not your Watcher anymore, there is never a day that I don't think about you and worry about your survival. That was true even when I was back home in England, perhaps even more so than when I was here. The extreme uncertainty in your life simply underscores just how important the lessons I can still impart are."

Buffy shrugged her shoulders, unable to come up with a reasonable argument to Giles emotion laden speech. "Fine. Impart away."

"We're on the verge of war," Giles began in his lecturing tone. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "It's time you look at the big picture."

"Hello. All I do is look at the big picture. The other day I gave an inspirational speech to the telephone repairman," Buffy joked with deadpan seriousness.

"It takes more than rousing speeches to lead Buffy. If you're gonna be a general, you need to be able to make difficult decisions regardless of the cost," Giles told her.

"Have you seen me with those girls?" Buffy asked, trying to get Giles to acknowledge that she'd been spending plenty of time training the potential Slayers. "I mean, the way I've treated my friends and my family and even Andrew." Buffy looked back at the way she'd been forced to use her friends in this fight, even though they were willing it scared her to think of them getting hurt or even killed in this war. It was tough to think that protecting their lives had to be a secondary consideration in the fight she was in. "Believe me, I know how to make hard decisions."

"Well, that's what we're here to find out while we work on the basics," Giles informed Buffy stiffly. He continued to ponder the choices he'd made and the one currently playing out at Robin Wood's house right now. Hope was a fragile thread to hang such plans on, but it was all he had.

Back at Wood's House

Robin Wood led Spike to the barn-like structure that stood beside his house. It was unattached and there was a padlock on the door, which Wood took out a key to unlock.

"You live in the garage?" Spike asked, curious despite himself about where he was being led.

Wood looked over his shoulder at Spike and replied, "it's more of a workroom. Kind of a sanctuary."

Spike nodded. "A little place to unwind huh?" Spike walks into the dark space and continues to speak his thoughts aloud, "hard day in the Principal's Office gets you a little down you need a place to cut loose, let your hair down, so to speak." In the meantime, Wood flicks the switch on, bathing the cross covered room bright light. "What the bloody hell is this?" Spike questioned. As his gaze panned over the room, all he saw was large crosses, small crosses, wooden crosses, metal crosses. There were crosses of every bloody description covering just about every square inch of the walls and even the backside of the door.

"I told you. This is my sanctuary. It's the Hellmouth, Spike. You can never be too careful. Just stay away from the walls and you'll be all right," Wood cautioned as he closed and locked the door behind them.

"It's a bit much, isn't it?" Spike asked, as he glanced about the room, surveying the excessive amount of crosses nailed to the walls. It was a bit of a nightmare scenario for any vampire to be trapped in a room like this. Spike had never felt entirely comfortable around Wood, but then there weren't a whole lot of people that didn't get a bit twitchy once they knew you were a vampire.

Wood kept one eye on Spike, while he made his way over the PC. He turned it on and waited for it to boot up.

Taking the initiative seemed his only option, since Wood was strangely silent. Spike offered up another, more probing question, "What's your story Wood?"

"No story really, just trying to do what's right," Wood answered. "Make a difference," he continued, as if what was going on had anything to do with the current fight, rather than being rooted in his own history. "How about you? What kind of man are you Spike?"

Spike shook his head. "Sorry, not much for self-reflection." That was especially true when it came to discussing himself with this prat.

"Yeah, makes sense," Wood agreed. He clicked on an icon in the computer, pulling up the file he needed. "See, you strike me as the kind of guy who just careens through life, completely oblivious to the damage he's doing to everyone around him."

"That right?" Spike asked rhetorically.

"I know more about you than you think Spike. See, I've been searching for you for a very long time. Ever since you killed my mother," Wood informed him. The time for his revenge had finally arrived and he was determined to savor every moment.

"I killed a lot of people's mother," Spike admitted dryly. What he'd done before he had gone and earned himself a soul, when he'd been solely a demon possessed vampire, wasn't something he factored into his bouts of guilt and remorse much. There wasn't much he could do about it. What's done is done and all that rot.

"Yeah, you'd remember mine," Wood spit out. "She was a Slayer." No ordinary woman indeed and no ordinary kill, for any vampire, even Spike.

"So that's it, isn't it? You brought me here to kill me?" Spike asked.

"No, I don't want to kill you Spike. I want to kill the monster that took my mother away from me." Wood clicked the icon that turned on the song that Spike had told them all in Buffy's basement was the trigger that The First had planted in his brain to unleash his demon on any unsuspecting human. The demon that inhabited William's body took over, his brow and forehead morphed to the bumpy state and his fangs lengthened. "There he is."

Spike, in his vampire guise, fought with Wood. Spike's unrestrained vampire rage and bloodlust made him a formidable opponent indeed. But Wood's need for revenge for the untimely death of his mother turned him into a berserker.

Meanwhile, Spike descended into a world of the mind, as memory swept through him like a cleansing wind.

A newly transformed Spike walked into his former home.

"Mother?" he called out his query.

"Hello William," his mother answered.

"Look at you," the newly transformed vampire Spike marveled at the change in his mother.

"Hm, yes," she murmured. "All better," she observed.

"You're glowing," he observed.

"Am I?" she asked.

"Yes," he answered, still caught up in the marvel of her standing, unbent by the wracking cough that had plagued her these last few years.

"Well, I suppose I have you to thank for that, don't I?" she asked rhetorically. "However will I repay you?" she asked.

"Seeing you like this is payment enough," Spike replied.

"Oh William. You're so tender," his demon possessed, new made vampire mother observed.

"This is as it should be mother. You and I together. All of London at our feet," Spike replied, not catching the obvious sarcasm in her tone, or the evil glint in her eye.

"Ah yes, us," she observed coolly.

"First we'll feast. Then the night is yours. The theatre perhaps? Dancing? Tell me, what's your pleasure?" Spike asked, full of loving concern.

"Pleasure?" she bit out sarcastically. "To take my leave from you, of course. The lark had spake from twixt its wee beak. You honestly thought I could bear an eternity listening to that twaddle?" she asked.

After twisting the knife in Spike's gut with ridicule, she leaned in to finish him off. He finally realized that the woman beside him was no longer his mother, and reaching down, he picked up a sharp stick from the woodpile near the fireplace and shoved it through her heart, turning her to dust.

Spike shook off his vampire face once he pulled out of his trigger induced flashback.

Where unchecked vampire strength had been unable to defeat Wood, Spike's rational, souled, conscious self was able to beat him into the ground within minutes.

When he leaned down over Wood, Spike taunted, "I just want you to know that the trigger is gone. Nice job that. I just wanted you to know before I did this." With his vamp face once more in place, Spike tore into the flesh of Wood's neck with his fangs.

When Spike pulled back, Wood was weak, but still alive.

Spike picked up the black leather coat that Wood had appropriated from him earlier, slipped his arms through it and walked out the door.

St. Timothy's Cemetery

Buffy continued to fight the vampire that she could have easily dusted as soon as he crawled out of his grave. Listening with only half an ear to Giles' instructions.

"Buffy are you listening to me?" Giles finally asked.

"Huh?" Buffy breathed, before really considering what he might have asked.

"Pay attention, please," Giles requested. "There will be times when difficult decisions will have to be made. Sacrifices will be necessary..." he began.

"Sacrifices?" Buffy repeated. At first she didn't want to believe he could mean when he did, but when she saw the guilty look on Giles' face she knew exactly what kind of sacrifice he was talking about.

"This was all just a delaying tactic. To keep me away from Spike," she deduced. 

She dusted the vampire she'd been sparring with and started to run. "What have you done to him?" she yelled. Her earlier worry over Spike's well being in Wood's care came back to haunt her with a prescient quality.

"Only what was necessary. What you couldn't or wouldn't do..." Giles admitted.

Outside Wood's garage

Buffy slowed from her headlong run to a walk, as she saw Spike emerge from Wood's garage.

"Spike, what happened?" Buffy asked, a frown between her brows.

Instead of providing an answer, Spike opened the door to Wood's garage, so Buffy could see Wood leaning weakly against the wall of the cross-decorated interior, bloody and beaten, a ragged bite wound on his neck.

"Oh my God," Buffy exclaimed.

"I gave him a pass, let him live on account of the fact that I killed his mother. But that's all he gets," Spike told her, as he turned and began walking away. He stopped and looked back, to find Buffy still watching him. "He so much as looks at me funny again, I'll kill him."

Spike once more turned and walked away, with a calm, self-assured swagger that had been missing from his stride for quite some time.

Buffy breathed in and out, then she walked inside to where Wood remained on the floor. She got an arm around him and helped him rise to his feet.

"I lost my mom a couple years ago. I came home and I found her dead on the couch," Buffy told Wood in a conversational tone. Simply the thought of finding her mother's body was enough to leaver her throat tight, but she managed to clamp down on those reactions. She had to, in order to say anything to him at all, a counterpoint of rage holding her at the ragged edge of her control.

"I'm sorry," Wood replied. He felt a bit woozy from the blows and the blood loss, so he wasn't quite sure if Buffy was trying to make a point and he was just missing it.

"Not what I was getting at." Buffy shook her head. The she continued, "I understand what you were trying to do, but your mom's dead."

"Because he murdered her," Wood pointed out bleakly. Nothing would bring her back, but it didn't seem right that her murderer was still alive after all these years. He'd had more than one chance to kill Spike, but he hadn't been able to pull it off. And now he probably would never have another chance.

"I'm preparing to fight a war and you're looking for revenge on a man who doesn't exist anymore," Buffy stated in a calm, rational tone.

"Buffy, don't delude yourself, that man still exists," Wood insisted.

"Spike is the strongest warrior we have," she stated. "And we are going to need him if we're gonna come out of this thing alive. You try anything with him again and he'll kill you... more importantly, I'll let him," she warned. Wood met her cool stare. "I have a mission. To win this war. To save the world. I don't have time for vendettas. The mission is what matters."

Wood could hear the echo of his mother's voice in Buffy's words, but it brought him only cold comfort.

Summer's house

Buffy looked into Dawn's room. She walked into her sister's room, checked to make sure the bandage on her head is clean and tucked the covers around her. Then she walked back into the hallway, to find Giles lurking... waiting for her.

"Buffy, I... I understand your anger. Please believe me, we... we did what we..." Giles began his weak explanation, sure in the knowledge that Buffy would be most upset at being unable to save Spike, who was a danger to them all with the trigger in his brain.

"He's alive Giles. Spike's alive," Buffy informed him. "Wood failed in his mission, a mission both of you failed to inform me about." Her voice contained chill censure, biting and as cruel as their mission to rid her of Spike had been.

"Well, that doesn't change anything. What I told you, is still true. You need to learn..." Giles began again in an instructional tone.

"No, I think you've taught me everything I need to know," Buffy informed Giles, as she shut the door to her room in his face. 

"You've taught me more than enough," she muttered under her breath, to herself.

Buffy opened her bedroom window and climbed down the tree beside it. It almost seemed like she'd gone back in time, to the days when her mother was alive. It had seemed so complicated then, but looking back it seemed simpler somehow when she'd simply snuck out of the house every night to patrol, before she admitted to her mother that she was The Slayer and everything went completely to Hell. In a roundabout way that brought her thoughts right back to Spike.

There was no way she'd be able to sleep until she saw him, talked to him, so she started walking toward the Riverside Cemetery. With a dozen cemeteries to choose from, Buffy figured she had her work cut out for her. Spike was sure to be keyed up and he might just be looking to fight a few of the monsters to let off some steam.

A blow to her back sent Buffy to her to her knees so fast she barely had time to look up to see a fist flying at her face.

To be continued...

The next part should wrap up this story, so please let me know what you think; all feedback is very welcome and very much appreciated.


	5. Letting Go

Title: Bittersweet Realizations

Rating: PG-13 for language and violence

Disclaimer: Buffy tvs is owned by Joss Whedon and ME, I'm just borrowing them

Spoilers: Set during season 7 before, during and after 7-17 "Lies My Parents Told Me"

Feedback: May be provided here or sent to aeryncrichton@hotmail.com

Pairings: Buffy / Spike

Subject: Complete - Additional scenes before, during and after LMPTM furthering the Buffy/Spike romance

Part V - Letting Go

Entrance to the Riverside Cemetery

A blow to her back sent Buffy to her to her knees so fast she barely had time to look up to see the fist flying at her face.

Slayer reflexes took over, sending her rolling to her right in time to evade the right cross that whiffed over her head. Buffy was able to get to her feet and into a fighting stance before the vampire came at her again.

She wasn't feeling especially ready with the quips tonight, so she dispatched the vampire with an uppercut to the chin that left him vulnerable to jab she made with Mr. Pointy to his unbeating heart. Dust rained down over her. She shook her head to get rid of the dust in her hair, then brushed the dust off her clothes as best she could.

Buffy continued her foray through Sunnydale's cemeteries, questing for a distinctive bleached blonde vampire.

Shady View Cemetery

Spike took the long way back through the Shady View Cemetery, hoping to run up against some nasties before he made it back home to his crypt. Even after his dust-up with the Wood-man, or perhaps because of it, he had too much adrenaline pumping through his system to simply go to his crypt and rest. He definitely wasn't ready to face Buffy or anyone else at the Summer's house. Sensible was one thing no one had ever accused him of being, he thought with a self-satisfied smirk. At least not since he'd become a vampire. Even getting a soul hadn't totally eradicated his reckless streak.

Lucky for him, unlucky for two new fledgling vampires. Spike had them both beaten up, on the ground and staked before he had a chance to work off much of his excess energy. After another hour of fruitless patrolling, Spike headed back to his crypt. Sometimes searching out the beasties of the night was a fruitless and futile effort, especially it seemed, when he really could use the exercise.

When he opened the door to his crypt, the sight that greeted him almost felled him.

Buffy was sitting on top of his crypt, her legs swinging back and forth as she hummed some pop tune playing in her head. When the door swung open, her gaze swung in his direction and she leapt off of her perch to stand before him.

"Hi," Buffy greeted Spike, tentatively. She really didn't know what to say. Wasn't entirely sure why she was here, except she'd felt compelled to come.

"Checking up on me Slayer?" Spike enquired, with a raised eyebrow. He had no more idea where he stood with her now that he ever did, so the banter was an easy, comfortable defense mechanism to fall back into.

Buffy shook her head. "I figured you needed to blow off some steam," she told him. "So, I just thought I'd wait for you here."

"I suppose you got a right sob story from the Wood-man," Spike drawled out the last word intentionally. Nothing got a Slayer's ire up like a good story about a vampire who had killed a Slayer or two. And Spike, aka William the Bloody had killed a couple of Slayers in his day. Not that he had a hankering to take Buffy's blood in such a manner.

He'd had a taste of her blood and while it was sweet, as all Slayer blood was, much sweeter than any mere human's, Buffy's blood wasn't what he wanted. Spike wanted much more from Buffy than a few paltry sips of blood. He wanted her heart and soul. And he wanted to be with her forever, but he'd be willing to settle for the rest of her life or his. If she'd ever give him the time of day again that was.

Buffy nodded, then told him, "it doesn't matter. I warned him. I need everyone on the same team. Or it won't matter when the army of the First Evil comes. Fighting amongst ourselves is just gonna make it easier for the First Evil to defeat us."  


"I meant what I said," Spike said calmly, reminding her of his parting words to Principal Wood.

"I know. When I said I warned Wood, I meant I knew you'd follow through," Buffy clarified. "And I told him I wouldn't stop you killing him, if he provoked you again."

Spike looked askance at Buffy and wondered at the change in her. If he didn't know better, he'd think that she was hardening herself to losing anyone and everyone in this upcoming battle. And in the process she'd lose herself, if she wasn't careful.

She needed her friends. And little sis. Dawnie was a real peach and even without Buffy around he knew he'd always want to protect her. He had protected and cared for Dawn like she was his own sister during the summer that Buffy was dead. She reminded him of his own younger sister, lost so young. Inquisitive, yet caring. Thoughtful and oh so very, very young, despite all that she'd seen. 

Without her friends, Buffy would lose herself to the darkness. Like she'd lost herself in a quagmire of her own dark needs with Spike himself last year. Her yearnings to hurt and be hurt, just to feel something. That was no good. He couldn't lose her to that kind of darkness... not again.

Maybe Buffy didn't really need him, but he had no plans to leave, as long as Buffy was here, fighting the good fight. He'd fight by her side right up to and through the gates of the apocalypse itself if that's what it took. Fling himself into the jaws of a hell dimension, he would, if it'd save Buffy or the world. Just because he knew its what she'd need and that it would make her happy.

Because that's what she did everyday. Saved the world from each and every evil that sprouted out of the Hellmouth before it could swallow everything up and drown the world in sorrow.

It wasn't fair that sorrow ruled her life. But then again, when had life or unlife for that matter ever been fair?

"So what now Buffy?" Spike asked.

Buffy came up short, not sure what Spike was asking, or maybe it was just that she still didn't know how to open up to him even now. It had all seemed so easy this morning. But now that she had the chance to say her piece, it was harder than she had imagined, to try and put together the words.

"Are we ever going to talk?" he prodded. The impasse, the stalemate between them had to be breached and for all that his Slayer was willing to start the conversation, she never seemed to be willing or able to finish it.

"About what?" Buffy asked.

"If you don't know, then I sure as bloody hell can't tell you," Spike bit out sharply and turned as if to walk away.

"Spike, wait... please," Buffy called out. The truth was she was unwilling, unable to let Spike slip out of her life. And she could feel it. Spike's impatience with her stalling, wavering and most of all with her fear. She was afraid that although he might be willing to fight by her side forever, eventually his love for her would dim and fade if she didn't confess her own. The love that she'd held in her heart for him for years, although she'd continually denied it, and denied him.

All of life was a risk. And with her life once again feeling like it was nearing the end, it was time to put fear aside. To really take a chance on love again. Because since she'd been with Angel, so many years ago, she really hadn't.

It wasn't that she hadn't wanted to either. She had. It was just way too scary, putting her happiness in someone else's hands. Putting her heart on the line and chancing having it broken again.

"So, what's it to be Buffy? Am I to be your strongest warrior and nothing else?" Spike asked.

"No," Buffy answered. "You're so much more to me. Don't you know how much I need you?" She thought she had shown Spike in so many ways, just how important he was to her. The stark, but true fact was that she wasn't ready for him to leave... never would be ready for him to go.

"I've told you how I feel Buffy. And my feelings haven't changed. I bloody well love you and I don't expect that'll ever change. The question is, how do you feel?" Spike inquired, unable to stem the tide of hope that began to rise within him. The price of a soul had never been so painfully clear, as when he looked into Buffy's eyes and waited for the crushing blow that would slash the thin thread of his hope to ribbons.

Buffy looked into Spike's open, trusting aquamarine gaze and she could feel his love radiating like the rays of the sun. It was warm and glorious. She trembled at its power. How could she have denied him the same in return?

On the verge of tears Buffy made her confession, "I love you Spike. I've loved you for years. I couldn't admit it to myself before, so how could I admit it to you?"

Spike could see that she was on the verge of breaking down and that was the last thing he wanted. Besides, he could practically hear the but in her statement. "But..." he offered her the opening to take it all back, to amend her statement in some way that would make it null and void.

Buffy shook her head and felt the tears that had been a threatening storm just moments ago, tumbling down her cheeks. "Didn't you hear what I said?" she asked incredulously. "I love you Spike."

Now it was Spike's fear that held him back. He'd waited for this moment, wanted it for so long. Bloody hell, he'd even dreamed about it. But there was no way it could be that simple, that straightforward. Nothing worked that way for him. There had to be a catch.

Spike took a tentative step forward, ready to sweep her in his arms and kiss her senseless, yet hesitant to do anything that might push her in the opposite direction. "And you're not going to push me away?"

Buffy shook her head. 

She took a step toward Spike and then another, until she was within a hairsbreadth of where he stood. Spike remained stock still, waiting for her. He ached to touch her, to kiss her, to shout his love for her from the rooftops... to anyone and everyone who could hear it.

Buffy reached up with her right hand and cupped his cheek, feathering her thumb along the contours of his cheekbone as the fingers of her right hand wove through his platinum locks. She reached up and placed her left hand at his nape to provide her with the leverage to reach up and touch his lips with her own. Her kiss was tentative, light and teasing as it brushed over his lips with the fragility of a tickle from a butterfly's wing.

A growl emanated from low in Spike's throat, as his hands fastened to her waist, to pull her body into close contact with his own. He wrapped his left arm around her waist, while he buried his right in her curly, sun-kissed mane. Everywhere their bodies touched he burned for her, he was on fire from the inside out. He'd willingly die for her.

Spike hadn't dared to hope, even though he couldn't stop his errant dreams, that he'd ever hold Buffy this close to him again.

He could feel Bufffy's arms holding onto him, tight bands of steel, much like his own. Then he realized that perhaps he was holding her too tight and moved to loosen his grasp, until he realized that Buffy was shaking her head, pulling him closer... quite obviously not looking for any relief from his hold.

Once more he lowered his head to take her lips in a kiss filled with all the passion, yearning and love that he'd had to hold inside for so long. Now, he finally had her leave to demonstrate his feelings for her.

Spike picked her up at the waist and set her on top of his crypt. Then he climbed up beside her. It wasn't a comfortable bed, but it felt like heaven to Spike now that he knew that Buffy loved him. He laid down beside her and looked into her glittering green eyes.

"I'll bloody love you forever pet," Spike told her.

"You better," Buffy teased. "I love you... so much. Never let me go."

"Not bloody likely," Spike replied.

The End

Please, let me know what you thought of this story, now that it's complete Did you like the ending? I'd love feedback on this part or the whole story.


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